


The Evans Heiress

by FalconHonour



Series: Sacred Twenty-Eight Fics [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Lily Evans Potter, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22051960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalconHonour/pseuds/FalconHonour
Summary: The Heirs and Heiresses of the Sacred Twenty-Eight are always presented to the Wizengamot at the Summer or Winter Solstice immediately following their thirteenth birthday. Lady Lilyanna Helena Evans is no exception.
Series: Sacred Twenty-Eight Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572622
Comments: 4
Kudos: 171





	The Evans Heiress

**Author's Note:**

> This story is born out of a conversation I had with Gezellig not all that long ago about the fact that my Lily isn't an only child. Hopefully this goes some way to explaining what happened to Petunia. If people wish for more detail, then I can probably be persuaded to write some more about the whole thing....

The Floo slowed to a halt, allowing Lily a glimpse of the Ministry Atrium before the flames flared green and she could step out. Unused to taking so long a journey by Floo, she stumbled slightly as she exited, but her father was there in an instant, catching her arm to hold her before anyone else noticed. He flicked his wand so that the golden robe she wore straightened and dusted itself off, before flaring open to show off the long periwinkle blue gown she wore beneath it, a golden sash glittering above her waist.

Robert Hamish Evans looked down at his daughter and nodded. “You’ll do, Lily. Come on.”

For the first time in thirteen and a half years, he offered her his arm. Coached to within an inch of her life by her mother for this very moment, Lily slid her arm through his without missing a beat. As she did so, a shiver went down her back as a breeze from the atrium doors tickled the back of her neck. She wasn’t used to that. She’d never worn her hair up before.

They’d barely taken two steps into the Wizengamot Chamber when Lord Ollivander greeted her father.

“Your Grace. I see you have company today. Lady Lilyanna.”

Lord Ollivander lifted Lily’s hand to his lips, and she dipped him a half-curtsy, “Lord Ollivander.”

Her father nodded, and returned the older man’s salute.

“A pleasure, Lord Ollivander. Yes, I intend to present Lady Lilyanna as my heiress at the beginning of the session today.”

Unconsciously, Lily straightened her spine at her father’s words. Sensing her shift beside him, Robert glanced down and spared his younger daughter a half-smile.

Lord Ollivander slid his weight awkwardly to the other foot.

“You intend to – Forgive me, Your Grace, but – my cousin Garrick couldn’t help but be surprised when Lady Lilyanna came for her wand and the Lady Petunia -”

“I will not speak of it here,” Robert cut the older man off before he could say another word, his tone clipped and icy, “I will say all I need to say before the Wizengamot, but I will not speak of the matter before we are in session.”

Robert Evans had been a hot-tempered young man, one spoiled to within an inch of his life by a bevy of doting older sisters, before he’d been a patriarch. Marriage and years of experience in the political arena had tempered his quick fury to a quieter simmer, but in that instant, there was a flash of his old indignant fire in his eyes. Lord Ollivander cowered before it.

“Of course, Your Grace. Forgive me.”

Bowing quickly, he retreated, leaving Lily and her father free to ascend the tiered seats to their cushioned box in the Wizengamot, something they did with unusual alacrity, for while the other Lords and Ladies looked askance at Lily’s place at her father’s side, his rigid demeanour was sufficient to keep anyone else from approaching them.

On the stroke of noon, the great oaken doors of the chamber slammed shut, and a clear silver bell rang through the room, summoning the members of the Wizengamot to their seats.

It was the first time Lily had been down in the main chamber – on the rare occasions she and her mother had accompanied her father before this, they’d been expected to seat themselves in the Ladies’ Gallery somewhere in the rafters, so she was turning her head from side to side, drinking in every detail she could lay her eyes on.

Robert allowed her a few moments of wide-eyed wonder, but as the seats around them filled, he leaned across the empty seat between them and recalled her to herself with a hand on her shoulder.

“As your mother would say, Ladies don’t gawp, Lilyanna,” he murmured, “Look, Lord Fawley is about to open the session. He’s in his third year of being Chief Warlock. He has another four years before Lord Flint takes the post.”

Lily’s eyes flashed to the front of the room, where Lord Jasper Fawley was ascending the steps of a carved silver chair, a heavy wand of office in his hand.

Having settled himself in the seat, he flicked his wand, levitating the staff just high enough to bring it thumping down on the stone floor three times over.

An instant hush filled the room.

“Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, it is my solemn duty to open this, the summer solstice session of the Wizengamot. The blessing of Merlin and Morgana rest upon you all.”

“And upon you, Lord Chief Warlock.”

The response was a murmured hush, recited in unison by dozens of people who had learnt it so well it was as though they’d been saying it every day for years. Blush staining her cheeks, Lily scrambled to echo them, trying to match her voice to her father’s so that it wasn’t obviously behind-hand.

“Before we proceed with our proposed agenda, are there any Heirs or Heiresses who require presenting to this august body?”

Lily’s father’s wand was in the air, calling attention to him, before Lord Fawley’s words had even fully died away.

“Lord Chief Warlock, I beg permission to present my daughter, the Lady Lilyanna Helena Evans, who, having reached her thirteenth birthday this past January, is now old enough to take her seat as the Evans heiress.”

Lord Fawley jolted.

“Your Grace. This is most surprising. According to the Book of Life in the Hall of Records, the Lady Lilyanna is not your eldest daughter. We expected to see you present the Lady Petunia as your heiress a full eighteen months ago.”

Robert drew himself up, and exhaled slowly, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

“Lady Petunia is an Obscurial, Lord Chief Warlock. She is in no way capable of taking on the duties of the future Lady Evans.”

A ripple of shock ran through the room. Tears pricked Lily’s eyes as her family’s greatest and most shameful secret was aired so baldly, for all to hear. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but look past her father’s shoulder, seeking out Lord Black, whose wife Druella was her mother’s closest friend and Petunia’s godmother. He, of all the men and women in the room, ought to understand how painful this admission was for her father.

Lord Black was utterly poker-faced, but, as though he could feel Lily’s gaze boring into him, he shifted in his seat, just slightly, so that their eyes met for an instant. She fancied that his gaze softened momentarily, before Lord Fawley spoke again and the moment was lost.

“An Obscurial, you say? You are aware, are you not, Your Grace, that all such things must be registered with the Hall of Records?”

Lily bristled at Lord Fawley’s choice of words. Petunia wasn’t a thing! She was her sister!

If Robert’s train of thought echoed his younger daughter’s, he gave no sign of it, merely holding Lord Fawley’s gaze steadily as he replied.

“Such things must be recorded, but the records can be sealed if the family ask for such a thing to happen. It was a tragic nursery accident that rendered Lady Petunia an Obscurial. My dearest wife has never forgiven herself, so when the time came to register the child, I chose to spare Lady Rosanna what little pain I could by ensuring that the matter did not become public knowledge until it had to be. Rest assured, I wrote and asked for the records to be opened this morning, before I arrived to present Lady Lilyanna.”

A long silence followed. Lord Fawley and Lord Evans held each other’s gazes for several moments, while the whole chamber waited with bated breath to see which of them would break first.

At last, Lord Fawley glanced away, looking past Robert to Lily.

“Very well. Lady Lilyanna, come and take the Oath.”

Lily bit the inside of her cheek so hard she drew blood. The metallic tang flooding her mouth gave her the focus she needed to rise and descend the myriad of steps down to the centre of the chamber without so much as a falter in her step.

Upon reaching the large triskele laid out in ochre on the stone floor, she sank into the deepest curtsy she would ever make in her life, though her head stayed up, as befitted her rank as a daughter of the House of Evans.

She took a deep breath and began, her nerves and fury vanishing behind a mask as she lost herself in the words her father had been teaching her since she was nine and Mama had burnt Petunia’s Hogwarts letter in the dining room fire.

“I, Lady Lilyanna Helena Evans, Member of the Twenty-Eight, swear by the sacred Merlin and Morgana that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Lady Magic, from this day until my last. May the magic of Merlin and Morgana strike me down should I fail in the role she has entrusted to me.”

Her final words fell into silence like pebbles into a river. For several heartbeats, nothing happened, and Lily pressed her lips together, willing herself not to panic. All of a sudden, she was surrounded by a warm glow, the kind she hadn’t felt since she’d found her wand in Ollivanders four years earlier. Without moving her head, she glanced down to see that her gold over-robe had changed to a deep shade of plum that clashed horribly with her glorious copper curls.

Lord Fawley waved her to her feet.

“Congratulations, Lady Lilyanna. Lady Magic has heard and accepted your vow. Take your seat among us,” he boomed.

Too full of a whole whirl of conflicting emotions to speak, Lily managed a nod of acknowledgement before rising with some relief. Even for her, holding a curtsy that deep for that long had been an effort.

Unwilling to let anyone see her struggle, however, she raised her head and drew on every bit of her mother’s training as she swept across the floor, up the steps and into her family’s box.

This time, when she sat down, she took the seat directly to her father’s left, the seat reserved for the family heir.

Applause rang through the room, and it was all she could do not to flush with pleasure.


End file.
